


Newton's Third Law

by loginistaken



Category: Back to the Future (Movies), Back to the Future: The Game
Genre: M/M, also excuse writing i am so rusty, also i put underage but i dunno if that counts, how does ao3 work, this is 1930's doc i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loginistaken/pseuds/loginistaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actions have consequences. Actions have reactions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WELL HELLO THERE! I apologize in advance for this one-shot thing. I haven't wrote legitimate fanfiction in a number of years so this is super rusty! With the huge Back to the Future hype I have realized my eternal love for Mammett, and since I can't draw worth a poo, I decided to make this! Hopefully it's okay!

He was told by Maggie to always consider the future. All the time, he muttered under his breath. Going back and forth between the future and past, seeing what could happen and what might not happen; how could you not think about the future? How could he not think about what foot he stepped forward with first, what he did in the next second, could affect his timeline? Possibilities and paradoxes. It makes him dizzy.

But Marty doesn't think about the future right now. All he can think about is Emmett, cheeks almost as red as his hair. He can only think about how soft his lips feel against his own, the butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach. The fact that there's something hard pressing into his thigh, and holy _fuck_ is that hot.

Somewhere in the back of his mind comes this saying. _Every action has an equal and opposite reaction._ It comes from something in science class that actually stuck to him, but right now, that Law isn't applying to physics, or movement. What is this doing to Doc, the 1986 Doc? Every kiss and every touch is something he'll remember, no matter how many times Marty goes back to the past to stop this moment from happening. 1986 Doc will always have this memory stuck in his brain, which kind of sucks because Marty doesn't like him like this. Emmett, 1930's Emmett, makes his heart flutter, gives him stronger feelings than Jen could ever have. That voice of his could either bring a blush to his cheeks, or set his blood ablaze. _Doc_ is his best friend, the person who helped him when his future was literally at stake. The thought about doing this to Doc kind of makes him sick.

That doesn't stop him from sneaking under Emmett's shirt, hands sliding up and down his warm skin. A warm feeling pools in his lower belly when Marty hears him panting, whimpering when he moves his hips. His heart hammers away in his chest, and a moan escapes him as his cock rubs against Emmett's, trapped in the confinement of his pants. Rubbing against Emmett, the friction of the rough material against his flesh brings a pleasure so brilliant it makes his knees weak. Marty can feel Emmett bucking against him, the steady rhythm they had created growing more and more frantic as time goes by.

Marty's breaths are coming in quick gasps. He's moaning and shivering, and he's _so sorry_ Doc- but he's so close. God, so close. "Jesus...Jesus, Emmett..." Marty's clinging to his shoulders like his life depends on it, moans escalating into whimpers as his orgasm creeps closer. He's sorry Doc, he's so so sorry, but- _fuck_! His hips roll and jut against Emmett's, and when he finally comes, it sends his mind spinning. Marty can feel himself twitching in his pants, a sticky warmth turning the inside of his briefs damp. "G-god! God! God!" Just after he can feel Emmett quaking against him, and a series of loud moans tells Marty that he wasn't all that far behind. Though the fog of the aftermath, he knows that Doc will be able to recall how intense the pleasure was, and that's not what Marty wants at all. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and goddamn, he's not looking forward to the reaction.

Soon enough he's sliding down the wall, Emmett holding him in his arms. Marty buries his head into his neck, kissing the pulse point gently. He's sorry...but shit. At the same time, he's not.


	2. Actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No need to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there again! I swear all I can write is smut what is wrong with me
> 
> I tried to add onto this, but had some troubles. Hopefully it's somewhat decent through.

Marty really didn’t want to leave.

His eyes wandered over the lab, trying to take in every last detail to the atom. The streaks of chalk that wandered over the blackboard, the abandoned sketches of inventions to come that littered the floor. The dartboard that hung on the wall, the pinpoints that marred the front. Emmett’s lab was actually starting to look like a _lab_ now that his father knew about his interest in science. In a matter of a day or two, Emmett's confidence in himself had skyrocketed. Seeing his best friend smiling, making peace with his father and showing him way-too complicated equations and theorems (or whatever), made Marty proud.

For the millionth time, Marty reminded himself that there was no point for him to be in 1931 anymore. Honestly, there hadn’t been a reason for months. The timeline was secure, future events had occurred like they were supposed to. Doc and his family were safe and sound in 1986, his house wasn’t being sold, and (except for the three Future Marty incidences), nothing was out of the ordinary.

Apparently. He really hoped so, anyway.

It wasn’t because he liked 1931 that he wanted to stay; he missed the technology that 1986 offered, or saying something normal that made people in this timeline look at you like you were nuts. Marty was afraid, deathly afraid of going back to the future, knowing damn well that things would be different when he returned. Different with his best friend, anyway.

“Do you really have to go?” A voice asked behind him. Marty jumped, snapping out of his thoughts and turning to see young Emmett Brown standing there, a solemn look etched into his features. 

Emmett. That was the reason why he stayed.

When he left the first time, he was miserable. Staying with Jennifer didn’t have its appeal anymore. He spent some time at Doc’s, but it wasn’t quite right. Marty knew damn well that he had the hots for Doc’s younger self, and that didn’t set right with him at all. Emmett, he undoubtedly had a thing for. Doc? Doc was his best friend. And he was older. And married. That was a no-go.

Marty turned his head, hardly able to stand looking at Emmett’s crestfallen face. “I have to, Emmett. I gotta go for a while.” 

Emmett shook his head. “Back to Washington?”

“Kinda. Somewhere far away.”

He returned to 1931, intent on only staying a few days. Getting into a relationship with Emmett could, as the Doc would say, have catastrophic results on the future or cause some space-time whatever-you-wanted-to-call-it. But he had been welcomed into the Brown household with open arms. Emmett and him fell into a routine. Marty, honestly, loved it. 

Wake up, help Emmett in the lab. Work on inventions, offer suggestions (that were more often rejected than not). Do science stuff for a while, help around the house if the Brown’s needed it. Maybe go to an event in town. Go to sleep, wake up again. Rinse, lather, repeat.

The day before he originally was supposed to leave, he admitted to Emmett about how he felt. Imagine his surprise when Emmett only returned the feelings! So he stayed, but Marty told himself for no more than a few days. In the blink of an eye, a week had gone by. Now? Three months.

Admitting feelings led to hugs. Hugs to kisses. Kisses to sloppy makeout sessions. Sometimes in the late of night, they would experiment in more ways than one. Marty became familiar with Emmett and his body, what he liked. Where to kiss, where to touch. What made him relax, and what made him _writhe._

Every time they laid in bed or finished in a sticky mess, Marty was reminded of the future. What was this doing to Doc, future Doc? Doc had a wife the last time he checked, and even had kids. Marty fucking around (literally) with his younger self was screwing with all of that, and it wasn’t fair. Not so much to Marty, but his friend.

Emmett took a few careful steps forward, his gray eyes sad. “I suppose there’s nothing I could suggest to make you stay for a few more hours?” His tone was solemn, but somewhere...it was hopeful. Marty could feel his chest being ripped into shreds.

He would have dropped his bags, if he had any. He reached up, giving Emmett the tightest hug he could muster. As his arms settled lightly around his neck, he could feel Emmett’s sneaking around his waist, a face burying itself in his neck. Marty turned his head to the side, burying his nose in Emmett’s red hair. 

When they broke apart, he leaned in and gave him a kiss on the lips. Emmett turned his head, capturing Marty’s lips between his own. Those hands wrapped around his waist grew a little tighter. Eventually his fingers wrapped themselves in Emmett’s hair, nibbling gently on his lower lip. Fingers stroked his cheek, a tongue flitted against his lips, asking for entrance. Marty let out a pleased hum and opened his mouth, and Emmett took the opportunity.

Tongues wrestling, butterflies starting to flutter in his stomach, Marty wished he could stay here for just a few days longer. Tasting Emmett like this, feeling such strong feelings for a person...it was all intoxicating. Knowing that he wouldn’t be here anymore was just a little more than depressing. 

He took Emmett’s tongue into his mouth and sucked on it gently, earning a moan from the latter. It was small, hinting of pleasure and a few things to come. A familiar warmth started to pool in his belly, and Marty hesitated. There was no way he could screw Emmett now, only to turn his back and leave in the same day. With a final nibble on his lip, Marty pulled away. The face Emmett made in return was so concerned, it almost broke his heart.

“...Marty?” Emmett’s voice was small, unsure.

Marty shook his head, his hands running up and down Emmett’s shoulders. “N-no, it’s not you.” They both knew what they wanted; they weren’t stupid. His fingers wandered from Emmett’s hair to his ear, tracing around it with ghosting fingers. He swallowed when Emmett gave a cute little shudder, and instead moved to fix his bow tie. “I, I can’t just leave you like this. I can’t do a hit and run with you, Emmett. It’s not fair.” He swallowed. “To you.”

“But what if the other party is considering it?” Emmett’s voice is quiet, but when Marty looks up, there’s a smile. “You’ve shown me more than enough how you feel for me, Marty. A “hit and run” parting gift is hardly something to be offended by.” Emmett leaned down and kissed his forehead, then down to his nose. “Besides, I would be the biggest liar of the nineteenth century if I said this is something I didn’t want. You’re not the only one with fluctuating hormones, you know.”

Something in Marty’s stomach fluttered, and he smiled. “You’re the doc, Doc.” 

Oh god, he didn’t mean to say that. His smile faded. Emmett didn’t seem to notice Marty’s face grow a little pale. “You’ve called me that more than once before. My, Marty, you make reaching for a doctorate degree sound pleasing, to say the least.” Lips trailed from his nose to his neck. A gasp escaped Marty when Emmett kissed his adam’s apple. “It would all be thanks to you.”

“N-no, not me.” Marty wanted to pull away before he said something he would regret. “You’re gonna do all the work. You’re gonna be great one day, Emmett.” Marty smiled when he pulled away. “Trust me.”

With a smile, the other pressed his lips against Marty’s. A cute, romantic kiss quickly turned into something much more heated. Tongues wrestled, hands explored. He found himself half-hard in no time.

All doubts were put aside. Marty broke the kiss and reached to lap his tongue around the outer edge of Emmett’s ear, nibbling on the earlobe. Hands gripping his vest tightened, and he could hear a little moan. His lips traveled to Emmett’s neck, kissing softly at the pulse point, sucking on his skin. His heart fluttered when he felt a pulse racing against his lips. 

Emmett was quickly undoing Marty’s buttons, shaky hands helping to shrug off his vest, the white shirt. He swallowed, quickly undoing the bow tie and tossing away the vest. Chests bare, their lips clashed together again, both flustered and bothered and holy _shit,_ Marty couldn’t breathe.

What was wonderful about Emmett was he was curious about everything. It was Emmett who broke the kiss, looking to Marty’s bare chest, fingers lightly skimming over his stomach. He watched as Emmett smiled when his muscles quivered, when the hand traveled back to his chest. Marty’s breath hitched as those hands moved a little down, catching the waistband of his pants.

Jesus, he was so hard already.. A small little feeling of pleasure suddenly sparked into something a lot more so quickly, which was currently twitching away inside his pants. Emmett’s hand touched his thigh, moving upwards to skim over the bulge. Marty felt himself stiffen, and hissed. He didn’t need to look up to know that Emmett was grinning.

Two could play at that game. Marty quickly cupped the obvious spot where Emmett’s cock rested, and the other actually gave a little yelp at that. He ran his hand up and down, smiling when he heard the loud moan Emmett gave. His hips pushed, bucked. Marty could feel the heat coming through the tough fabric of his pants, and suddenly, it was way too hot in here.

“Dammit, Emmett.” He quickly unbuttoned Emmett’s pants, helping him strip and throwing his clothes aware carelessly. ”Clothes off. _Off._ ” His own quickly followed, joining in a disorganized heap in the corner of the lab. He licked Emmett’s lips, biting down gently. A moan escaped him, and then-

Emmett ducked from the kiss, kneeling in front of Marty’s cock. “F-forgive me, Marty. I just wanted to try one last experiment, if I may...” Emmett sounded so nervous. Looking closer, he could see him swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing. The redhead gave him a nervous kind of smile and drew a little closer to his shaft. Marty bit his lips as he imagined Emmett's warm mouth closing over him, and his cock jumped at the thought. What he wouldn’t give for-

Marty’s knees almost gave out when a wet warmth enveloped him. He hissed, eyes widening with surprise as his hands ran through the other’s red hair. Emmett was gentle and soft, tugging at his sensitive skin enough to make him see stars. Marty bent his knees and whimpered when Emmett flicked his tongue against the slit, his hips rolling ever so slightly.

Oh fuck, it kept happening. Emmett’s tongue would circle around his crown, then gently prod at the center. What was once a pleasant thrum of pleasure quickly became something more; heat boiled in his belly. Marty panted, trying so hard not to thrust into his mouth, bending over just a little while he combed through Emmett's hair. The other moaned, and Marty could feel his balls tighten, his cock starting to throb. His orgasm was right _there_ when Marty popped the head of his cock out of Emmett's mouth, a breathless wreck. “Nnh, wait, _aah…_ ”

His hands rested on Emmett’s head as he willed himself to relax. Too early, way too early. The pleasure was intense, his body aching for just a little more. A few seconds later the tingling feeling of orgasm started to fade, edging away enough to promise a little more time. 

“Was it too bad?” Marty looked down to see Emmett staring at him, concerned etched on his features. He would have felt bad, if it wasn’t for the fact he wanted this to last a little longer.

“Bad? Jesus, Emmett. Look at me.” 

His cock was hard and twitching, the tip a furious red. A little bead of precum slid down the underside. Marty could feel Emmett lick it away, and his hips jerked forward. "U-Unh, God..."

Emmett’s face turned as red as his hair. “Really? I mean, I, I hadn’t really tried it on anyone, so I just estimated what warmth would feel like against the most sensitive part of the male anatomy-”

Marty leaned forward and gave Emmett a kiss, a hint of salt lingering on his lips. “Your science talk is really sexy, but Jesus, Emmett if we don’t finish…”

“O-oh. Yes. My apologies!”

After a moment or two, Emmett smiled, holding up his hands. He quickly walked to one of his drawers in his lab, ass naked, pulling out a little tube of lotion. Oh yes. Oh, fuck yes.

Emmett handed him the bottle, face flushed with arousal. “Your key to the kingdom, Marty!” Key to the kingdom, indeed. Marty took the bottle, and smiled. He opened the cap, squired a bit of lube onto his hand. He walked over to Emmett...and rubbed the lotion onto the other’s cock instead. 

A hiss escaped Emmett at the sensation, his hips jutting into Marty’s hand. He let his hands roam over his hot skin, his slick hand moving to his balls. “I want you in me, Emmett.” A blush was spreading to his face, making his cheeks hot. “I want to feel you. _Please._ ”

Thank god he didn’t hesitate.

Emmett quickly cleared the lab table, tossing instruments and sketches to the side. Marty found himself on his back, the other positioned between his legs. Emmett looked nervous, a shaking wreck. But he didn’t argue when Marty took his hand gently, leading him to where he wanted him to be.

Slick fingers entered first. Marty shut his eyes, focusing on how incredibly wonderful Emmett felt against him a few moments before. He could feel Emmett hesitate and gave a low moan, more out of encouragement than anything he actually felt. Marty had done this with himself before; it was all about searching, learning about yourself, and Emmett didn’t necessarily know about him this way yet. It was awkward, yeah, but it wouldn’t be for long.

The fingers withdrew, and Marty opened his eyes to see Emmett positioning himself at the edge of the table, face flushed with arousal. The lust in his eyes was enough to make Marty whimper, attempting to pull him in a little closer. “ ‘M’ready.” He looked up, licking his lips. Emmett pushed forward, just a little bit, almost like he was teasing. “God, _please…_ ” Emmett let out a little gasp, before slowly pushing his hips forward.

Marty winced as he felt Emmett enter, eyes closed, the side of his head resting against the table. He could feel eyes watching him carefully, studying his every reaction, every wince. Marty accidentally let out a little whimper of pain, and Emmett stopped halfway in. “Are, are you-?”

He looked up to see a concerned face looking at him...but Emmett’s face was flushed, shaking above him. Marty remembered what it felt like when things were switched around, him inside Emmett for the first time. How his hips wanted to piston forward, but he didn’t dare. Not yet. “Yeah, y-yeah. Fine. Keep going, just keep going!”

Sparks would fly, he knew they would. He shut his eyes as Emmett let out a low, quiet moan, rolling his hips in circles. He would pull out, then slowly push again, maybe changing the angle, lifting one of Marty’s legs over his shoulder, trying his best to help-

“O-oh, _fuck!_ ” Stars flew, his back arched. Marty suddenly clenched himself around Emmett, who bucked into him unconsciously. Whatever discomfort he felt suddenly disappeared, being replaced by this hot pleasure from inside. Emmett placed his hands on the table beside Marty, pulling his hips out before pushing forward a second time. He was slow, steady...but he could see how much restraint was being put into this. Emmett wanted more, but didn’t dare give it until an okay was given.

“Marty, oh Marty. You’re, you’re…-” He pulled out, shivered, and pushed back in. Pleasure wracked him again. “...tight. My god, so tight.”

Emmett moved faster, then a little faster after that. Soon enough they had a rhythm set up perfectly, moving and pressing against each other with such passion it made Marty dizzy. He ran his hands up and down the other’s back, trying not to dig his fingers into his skin. Emmett reached forward with one hand, stroking Marty’s cock in time with his movements and holy shit, he couldn’t make it...

His eyes slipped shut, a warm feeling started to pool in his belly. Emmett grabbed Marty’s hips, his own pistoning forward, his breaths coming in quick pants. Pants quickly escalated into whimpers. He could barely hear Emmett whispering his name as the thrusts suddenly stopped. “Mm-mmmh-...marty…”

It was amazing seeing Emmett towering over him, his eyes closed as if he was concentrating, skin flushed and hot. A series of quick, short whimpers escaped him, and Marty could feel Emmett’s cock twitch as he came. Without warning his hips started to ram forward. Marty’s back arched, writhing, oh jesus… “F-fuck, god Emmett, _fuck yeah…_ ” He felt himself start to peak, when Emmett shifted himself just a bit, fingers skimming the underside of his cock, and thrusting his hips forward just right. His orgasm came in luscious waves, intense enough to make his mind go completely blank. Something warm and sticky landed against his chest.

Emmett collapsed on top of him, a gasping, hot mess. Marty struggled to remember that these kisses were few and far between now. Who knew if he’d come back to feel them at all?

* * *

There was a flash of light as the Delorean finished its travel through the timestream, Doc’s garage in front like it always had been. Nothing...looked different. Same street number, same fence. All Marty wanted to do was return the car, and get the hell out before he would be noticed. He wasn’t ready to approach Doc, not yet.

It looked like Doc saved him some time, though. He stood outside of the gate. Arms folded, scowling, hardly as happy-looking as he had just a few minutes ago. Despite all that had happened, Doc did not look pleased, not at all.

Swallowing hard, Marty crawled out of the Delorean, shutting the door carefully so he wouldn’t touch the icy exterior. He walked forward, not daring to look into his eyes. “Hey, Doc.”


	3. Reactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this didn't take forever at all.
> 
> I hope this is okay! This is something I wanted to fix up but I didn't really know how to. Like I just kept drawing blanks and nothing was making sense, and it was a wreck. Like I'll be honest, the stuff I've written was something I came up with as I was writing. So it's probably not all that grand.
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews also! Sorry I kind of stopped replying after a while. Still kind of used to fanfiction.net, y'know? (that's still no excuse, stop that.)
> 
> Here we go!

Doc was absolutely silent as he led Marty inside his house. The many clocks on the wall ticking away was the only form of sound as Doc pointed to the nearest bed. His voice was tense, quiet when he muttered, "Sit."

Marty sat. 

He could hardly keep his eyes on Doc as his friend paced the floor, one hand folded under his armpit while the other was pinching the bridge of his nose. Marty could count on his hands how many times he's seen Doc mad; it was a pretty rare thing, despite the crap he would find himself into. There would be a stern talking to, maybe a threat to tell his parents. But never before has he seen Doc like this. Now Marty could see what his actions have caused. Not good.

After a moment or two of awkward silence, Marty was just about to open his mouth to say something, or at least apologize. The fear he was feeling was making his stomach roll, to the point where he was afraid he would throw up. Doc beat him to the punch. 

"Do you have any, _any_ idea of what you could have done?" 

Could have. Those were the magic words. It wasn't until that moment that Marty realized that he hasn't seen Clara around, or the boys. The fear gripped his heart in an icy grasp. He almost said something like 'what do you mean?' but how stupid would that sound? Doc knew very well what he was talking about, and so did Marty. So he stayed silent. 

"How many times have I said not to mess with time? Of all people Marty, I would expect you to understand this." He sighed, exasperated. "Your mother falling in love with you, the incident with Hell Valley-" 

That stung quite a bit. Marty blinked, eyes wide as he tried to process what Doc had said past the hurt. He admitted that it was his fault, sure, but Doc never used it against him like this. He was still talking, rather quickly, when Marty spoke up. 

"Why don't _you?_ You did the same, you got hooked with Clara!" 

"But that was _different,_ Marty!" Doc's tone was angry, impatient. It was as low as a hiss, but it held the same bite all the same. "I didn't know about what the future would hold when we fell in love. We didn't have a clue of whether we would have children, or what we would even do the next day. For God's sake, we didn't even know if we'd return to the future!" He threw his hands up. "It was all unwritten." He paused, taking in a big breath of air. "But you knew damn well what was going to happen in the future! You knew about meeting in 1955, my eventual discovery of time travel. You knew that I was going to meet Clara, and we would start a family! You knew all of this, and yet you continued without a thought in the world about what...what we _did_ , and the consequences that would follow!" There was another pause. Doc closed his eyes, and Marty took the time to stare down at his shoes. 

The thought did come to him; way too often, when he was in the 1930's. "Was it bad?" 

Doc shook his head. "I could hardly look at you when you came to me in 1955. How could I imagine we were such close friends after everything? All I could picture was, was..." Doc went silent, before waving his hand as if he was dismissing the idea. "It was hard, Marty. You were to be my best friend, the one who truly encouraged me to explore further into time travel, but working with this image in my head made it nearly impossible." 

Marty notices that he doesn't mention meeting Clara, or anything about the boys. They were around, that much he knew now. But how much did he get in the way of everything else? Of their family becoming a _family?_ He also notices how Doc said 'were' to be his best friend. It hits him like he was just punched in the stomach. "They're, they're okay, right?" Marty's voice is a whisper. "Clara? And Jules and Verne?" 

His friend(?) sighs again, but it seems to be less out of fury and more out of relief. "Yes. They're out and about for the meantime, but the timeline is secure." 

"And are we...still friends?" That's all Marty wants to be. Whatever attraction to Emmett Brown was gone, at least when he was sitting in front of him in the present. Doc was his friend, and that's all he wanted him to be. There's a pause, and with every little millisecond that passes by, Marty grows more and more fearful. Thankfully, he speaks. "Yes. But that's all I want us to be." Doc looks to Marty, stern and sure. "Should I be under the assumption that you still hold those...feelings for me in present time?" 

"N-No, no!" Marty shakes his head a little too hard, holding up his hands. "You're my best friend, Doc. I couldn't. I wouldn't wanna. It was just your younger self. Back in 1931. I, I don't know what happened, but it just kinda hit me, y'know?" Marty feels himself blushing. "Kinda like, like..." 

When he speaks next, Doc's tone is almost normal. "Like lightning?" When Marty looks up, Doc is smiling. 

Marty dares himself to feel the littlest hint of relief. "Yeah. Like that." Whether or not he should assume the worst was over, he didn't know. The clocks show that only minutes went by, but it feels like hours passed. Days. 

"Well, what's done is done. My family is safe, I'm still here, and _you're_ still here, all in one peace." He shrugs. "In the end when it comes to time travel, that's all I can wish for." Thank God. 

Marty takes a big breath in, and blows it out. "How it should be." He smiles, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. 

Doc seems to notice. There's another pause, but there's no tension in the air this time. "Did you really have such a strong attraction for my younger self?" Marty pauses, before nodding. If it wasn't for the fact that he just got the biggest amount of hell he's gotten from the Doc in his life, he would laugh at how comical this sounded.

"Yeah." His tone was light, almost daydreamy. It reminded him a little too much of those cliche movies where a group of high school girls swoon over the hot guy passing by in the hallways. Silence again. Doc's brow furrows, but he looks like he's more in thought than anything else. It takes some time before he speaks again. 

"I...believe it would be safe to assume that the actions we've-" Marty took note of that. We've. "-done thus far has had no significant impact on the future. Despite my younger state of mind and my feelings for you then, marriage and children will be a given fact. Like destiny." He's muttering again, a far-away look on his face. Marty has to lean in to catch his words. "We had gotten...quite far in our relationship in the past, to the point where I doubt we could do much more. Well, _obviously_ there could be more, but..." He clears his throat. "Anyway! Perhaps it would be safe to assume that travels to 1931 wouldn't be too terribly harmful. If we've done what we've done in the past and the future is still intact, what else more could happen?" 

Marty's not sure how to process what Doc is saying. He couldn't be implying what he thought he was, right? "You _do_ know that this could change the relationship between us?" Doc turns to Marty, his head cocked to the side. "You will always be my best friend. But the memories I have of you are drastically different. I can't predict what you doing in the past will do to further memories to come. Do you understand?" 

Marty nods furiously. 

"Then I suppose that letting you visit my younger self from time to time won't be such a horrible thing. Or at least, not as horrible as I hope to be. I know what love is now, and how heartbreaking separation can be." Doc looked to Marty, and he was surprised by the look of wisdom in his eyes. He always saw Doc as a smart guy, but there was something new there to be seen. "All I ask is that you check in from time to time. Despite whatever happens, you're no stranger...though, this all being said, you do know that this could also impact your relationship with Jennifer...?" 

Oh god, Jennifer. Marty felt himself grimace, his gaze looking back down to his shoes. Why hadn't he thought of her? "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, I guess." 

Doc was quiet, but just for a moment or two. But he nodded, shrugging with his arms wide open. "I suppose that's one way to take care of it. If you're going to go back now, I can't stop you. But could I humble you into having dinner with Clara and the boys?" Doc's tone was genuine, his smile true. A mix of feelings flooded Marty to the point he felt like he could burst. 

"I think I could do that."

* * *

Doc listens for the telltale sign of the Delorean's engine pushing to the required speed, the crashes that follow as the car is sent into the past. There's still doubts about whether or not what he's done is right, but somewhere in his gut, he feels like it is. When Clara first left him, it felt like his soul had been ripped in half. Who's to say Marty didn't feel that way about his past self? 

He stands there in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, before making his way to the bedroom. Inside the closet is a box; a thing from the future he pulled, that could only be opened with a number code and a thumbprint. Doc quickly punches in the code, and sets his thumb on the scanner. A second later, it unlatches and he's allowed entry.

There's not many things in there. The biggest article is a newspaper, dated October 21st, 2015. The last time he looked at it, there was a picture of Biff's grandson, yelling into the camera after crashing into the Courthouse Mall. Marty McFly Jr. had been mentioned, but with no legal action taken against him. He had been knocked out by the little beating he had received, but the Marty Griff knew had been swimming out of the little pool and evading the crowd. Smart kid.

After hesitating, just for a few seconds, he opens up the paper. Griff's picture is the same, the article is the same. Doc squints, looking for the name. And there it is! Marty McFly Jr. 

Safe and sound, in good old 2015.


End file.
